


Glam Trash Cecil Trilogy

by Jathis



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alcohol, Cecil is kind of a dick, Grinding, M/M, Punk Earl, glam trash Cecil, grunge carlos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:52:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glam Trash Cecil belongs to Punkrockgaia and I ended up writing a trilogy about him.</p><p>Punk Earl belongs to http://videntefernandez.tumblr.com/ as does Grunge Carlos</p><p>They even drew an illustration for the first chapter: http://jathis.tumblr.com/post/93292683974/club-thumping#notes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Club Thumping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [punkrockgaia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockgaia/gifts).



He was already considering leaving this place and trying to find something quieter. He hadn’t expected everything to be so… _loud_  and close like this. He had his back turned to the dance floor that looked more like an orgy and he was headed for the exit when hands covered in rings were suddenly grabbing him by his hips and he gasps as he feels someone grinding themselves against his back.

“Buy me a drink and I’ll suck your cock,” a deep voice whispers into his ear, the smell of too many cheap cigarettes and an obscene amount of liquor hitting his nose.

“The fuck..?” He hisses as the bottom of his ear is nipped and he finally rips those hands off of his hips and whirls around to confront the drunk. He blushes and finds himself struggling to find any words to say when he finds himself staring at someone more suited for a painting of Pan his lecherous adventures.

He’s shirtless, his body already soaked in his (and other’s) sweat. There’s purple eyeshadow and glitter smeared all over his face from the sweat (and the touching they’re always touching him) and his smiling lips are painted lavender. He’s wearing cheap tight jeans that probably fit him right years ago, barely held together by sparkling duct tape and his own hips.

And he smiles again, white teeth flashing in the strobe lights of the too loud club. “Do you want me to pay first?” he asked, and before anything can be said he’s leaning forward, sucking on the side of his neck, dragging his teeth over a throbbing pulse, grinding himself against his thigh, always grinding and mewling and purring and…

He lets out a bark of surprise when he’s suddenly shoved away, tripping over his boots that are falling apart and landing on his tight ass. He scowls and spits in rage, barely noticing the concerned looking redhead who runs over to take him by the arm, trying to drag him away before he can cause any more problems.

“Fuck you and fuck your ugly hair!” he screams but his intended plaything isn’t listening, fleeing from the club before anything else can happen. “Fucker…”

“Cecil, you need to relax,” Earl whispered.

“I need to either drink something or suck on something,” he countered, “I’ll suck you so hard if you buy me another drink right now…”

"Cecil…"

"Earl, I swear to fucking the Masters Of Us All…"

Carlos stands outside of the club, shaking a little as he looks over his shoulder. He’s never going back there again, not with people like that around.


	2. Best Night

Tonight was turning out to be one of the best nights he had ever had. He had been able to find an amazing pair of blue fake leather pants at the thrift store and he had only needed one roll of duct tape to fix his favorite pair of boots. Matching eyeliner and glitter was liberally applied to his face and chest and he was off to show everyone his “new” pants.

Someone with an amazing tasting cock had brought in a bag full of ecstasy, the kind stamped with an eye on each one. It made Cecil’s body feel overly sensitive and very wonderful and in the heat and the smoke and the beating of the bass of the music; Cecil loudly screams for a game of “Whose In My Mouth”, shutting his eyes tightly as he grinds himself up against the first willing person there, arching his back as a second person comes from behind, hands on his hips and a barely covered erection pressing against his ass.

Someone takes off their bandana and ties it over his eyes and Cecil is gently pushed down onto his knees, massaging hands on his shoulders as he smiles, licking bright blue lip gloss covered lips before opening his mouth wide for the first person to try.

Cecil wins of course. He uses his second sight to cheat a little, able to take five orgasms and purr the right name every time. He’s rewarded with another tablet and more alcohol and he stands up on a stool, proclaiming himself the reincarnation of Bacchus as he pours one of his brightly colored drinks down his bare chest, inviting anyone to come and lick it off.

When everything is over he’s sitting on the curb, grinding his teeth as he waits for Earl to come and pick him up. His body is drenched in sweat and he feels dizzy all over and there’s no one outside to catch him as he suddenly falls backwards, lying on his back and staring up at the stars, grinding and grinding and grinding his teeth as he watches them shift and change color before he closes his eyes.

And then there are hands on him and he frowns because he didn’t hear Earl’s shitty truck pull up so he opens his eyes to scold him when he finds himself staring at someone who is  _not_  Earl pulling him into a sitting up position. He frowns and glares as the stranger frets over him, muttering in a mixture of Spanish and English as he shrugs off a backpack.

Wait a minute.

Cecil narrows his eyes and in his haze remembers that  _this_  was the asshole who had pushed him last week! Or was that two weeks ago?

Was it yesterday?

“Hey…fuck you…” he growls, his teeth still grinding between his words.

Carlos just sighs and doesn’t argue with the weird looking guy, pulling out a water bottle from his bag and taking the cap off, glad that it was the kind with the mouth piece. “You need to drink water.”

“…Drank plenty ‘side.”

“Alcohol isn’t water.”

“Naw, s’better…” Cecil smirks, swaying a little as he looks at him, ignoring the offered bottle. “An’ YOU are an ugly fu…” He yelps when the stranger in a flannel shirt and torn up jeans suddenly squirts water into his mouth, sputtering and spitting it out. “Hey!”

Carlos forces the mouthpiece into Cecil’s mouth, narrowing his eyes at him as he keeps a firm hold on the bottle, ready to squeeze again. “Drink!” he commands. The pair lock eyes, glaring at each other. Eventually Cecil starts to drink on his own and Carlos sighs and takes one of his hands, guiding him to hold the bottle on his own. “Dying of dehydration on a curb isn’t really a good way to end a night at a weird sex club,” he mutters.

Cecil is silent, chugging the water now, throwing his head back to try and get every drop. Fuck…maybe he should have drunk some water after all! He perks up when the stranger in the flannel shirt offers him another and he snatches it immediately, starting to chug this one too.

“That should be enough until your friend gets here, I think.” He looks up when he sees headlights coming towards them and he stands up and waves his arms in the air, pointing down at the still seated Cecil.

Earl frowns when he’s flagged down by that weird kid Cecil had almost fought the other day, pulling over and stepping out. “Shit…is he okay?”

“He just needed water,” Carlos said with a shrug, slipping his backpack on.

“I’m the reincarnation of Bacchus,” Cecil helpfully offered.

Earl rolled his eyes and sighed as he pulled Cecil onto his feet, helping him stagger into his truck. He waits until he’s got the seatbelt on before turning to Carlos, cocking an eyebrow at him. “…Thanks.”

“He shouldn’t be going out by himself…”

The redhead frowned, nodding very faintly before turning around again. “Yeah…thanks…”

Carlos watches as the punk looking kid climbs into the driver seat and takes off, sighing as he turned and started to walk down the sidewalk. He couldn’t help but wonder if the other would be all right but he supposed he wasn’t really his problem. He was only here for a few more days and then he would be gone again back to school and he doubted he would ever need to care about him again.


	3. Good Night, Glam Trash Cecil

“Man… _fuck_  grunge people…”

Earl rolled his eyes as he took out his false eyebrow piercing, placing it in a small cup before looking over his shoulder at his very intoxicated and high friend lying on the mattress on the floor, his back facing him. “Go to sleep, Ceec,” he said.

Cecil raised up a hand, offering Earl his favorite finger in reply.

“Ceec…”

“Grunge people and their ugly fucking hair…”

“That weird guy might have saved you a trip to the hospital,” Earl added.

“I  _like_  going to the hospital…” Cecil muttered.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do. They give you pain meds if you pretend you’re like…dying or something…”

Earl frowned to himself at this, shaking his head. He had only sipped something alcoholic once and had immediately felt a strong dislike for it. The Scouts didn’t need a drunken Scoutmaster when it was his time. “…You need to stop with the drugs, Ceec.”

“You need to stop sucking dick for drinks.”

“That’s you,” Earl tersely reminded him.

There was a moment of silence before Cecil muttered, “…shit that’s right.”

“’Reincarnation of Bacchus’ my ass…”

Cecil pouted and forced himself to sit up, glaring at Earl now as he swayed a little, struggling to stop himself from flopping back down again. “I  _could_  be! You don’t know!”

Earl filled a cereal bowl with water before picking up a bandana and sitting beside Cecil, taking hold of his chin before dipping the cloth in the water, washing the smeared make-up and glitter from his face. He frowned at the way his friend was still grinding his teeth, the noise loud in the mostly empty apartment. “I highly doubt it,” he finally said once his friend’s face was clear again.

“Pfft nonbeliever…” Cecil muttered, looking away, his teeth grinding and grinding and grinding and…

“Try to get some sleep,” Earl insisted, gently pushing Cecil back down.

“Ngh…” Cecil reached up and grabbed Earl by the wrist, yanking him down with him. “Not sleepin’ alone…”

“Ceec, you smell like sex and beer,” Earl protested.

“Yeah, I do.”

Earl rolled his eyes but settled down beside him, allowing Cecil to hug onto him tightly, his face nuzzled against Earl’s cheek, still grinding away. “Your teeth are going to fall out if you keep doing that…”

“Earl?”

He turned his head to look at him, “yeah?” His face nearly became as red as his hair when Cecil’s lips were suddenly on his own, chaste and sweet and so unlike the way Cecil kissed the patrons at the club. He blinked when the kiss ended, Cecil sighing in contentment before closing his eyes, nuzzling against Earl’s chest. “…Ceec?”

“G’night, Early Bird.”

He couldn’t help the small smile then, running a hand through the other’s sweaty hair, fingers lightly touching his scalp. Cecil soon stopped grinding his teeth as he started to fall asleep and Earl smiled, watching him. “Good night, Ceec.”


End file.
